Drive By
by LilmissInsanity
Summary: Arthur had given up nearly everthing to stay with his boyfriend for a year. In that time Arthur had forgotten about nearly everything and everyone from his past. But that all went down hill when his boyfriend broke up with him for someone else. Heart broken, Arthur was drinking at a bar, when he met Francis. Short discription sucks. Rated M for smut and language.
1. Chapter 1

"That bloody git. Why did he have to go and break up with me?" Arthur mumbled as he took another sip of his beer. Only hours ago, he had received a text from his long term boyfriend, saying that he was breaking up with him. It took him completely by surprise and shock. At first, he thought it was just a joke and sent a text back to remark at how funny the joke was. But it wasn't a joke; his boyfriend really was breaking up with him. The poor Brit was consumed by grief. He loved his boyfriend, he loved him so much. He had sacrificed things to be with him, and all it was to just end by a text. His boyfriend wasn't even man enough to break up with him face to face. This was how Arthur found himself at a bar, sitting in one of the booths, drinking his woes away.

Alcohol hadn't been touch by the Brit since he was going out with his boyfriend, which was only a year ago, but now seemed like a good enough time to Arthur to start drinking again. He had even stood out the front of the bar for five minutes, debating to go in or not before walking in and ordering a beer. And like usual, Arthur was a horrible drunk. Only up to his second beer and he was a blubbering mess. The other people at the bar gave him concerned looks; they could see how miserable he was. None of them went close though, letting him wallow in his misery. The bar was a reasonable sized one. The lighting was only slightly dull, but enough so they could see. A jukebox played any songs people choose and the music would play through the whole bar. In general, it was a happy sort of bar. But with Arthur there, anyone could feel the bad and sad vibes coming from him.

"I don't need Alfred. I don't need him! I was fine before I met him and I'll be fine without him. I'm a perfectly capable grown man." Arthur told himself out loud, trying to get his confidence back. But his face dropped and he crossed his arms on the table in the booth and rested his head on them. "Oh who am I kidding? I'm nothing without him! I gave up so much and now it's all going to waste." He mumbled and sniffled. Arthur really had given up so much. He originally lived in England, but moved to America with Alfred and lived in New York with him. He had left his family behind, some of his friends and even an old frenemy. Leaving his frenemy wasn't so bad though. Said person had driven him crazy and getting away from them was the best thing he wanted to do. But now that he was broken hearted and away from his real home, he missed his life before Alfred. He couldn't even remember the names and faces of his old friends and his frenemy, all because he had been love-sick when he was Alfred and forgot.

"What is the matter mon ami? Why so glum in a place like this?" He heard a heavily accented voice say. Lifting his head up, he narrowed his eyes at the person who spoke and now sat across the table from him. "Sod off." Arthur growled. The other person smiled. "Aw, you wound my mon ami. I was only asking a question." The other pouted. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well why would you want to bloody know? I'm a miserable man that just had his boyfriend break up with him. So just piss off." He grumbled. "Mon ami, I didn't know. If anything, I'd want to help you right now." The other said, reaching his hand out and putting it on top of Arthur's. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the others hand on his. Something seemed familiar about it for some reason. Even the other person's voice and actions. But the Brit was too drunk and miserable to even try and think. "What's your name?" He asked the other.

"My name? It's Francis, mon ami. Francis Bonnefoy." He introduced himself. For some reason, the name sounded familiar to the Brit, but he ignored it. Arthur nodded. "I'm Arthur Kirkland. Are you French or something? I've heard the words mon ami before and your accent and name sound French too." He asked, not remembering how he knew French. "Oui. I am French. So, Arthur, tell me what's wrong and I'll help any way I can." Francis told him with a smile. Arthur looked at the Frenchman, and sighed. "Well, my bloody boyfriend broke up with me. And over text too! He wasn't even able to be a man and say it to my face! Not only that, he left me for someone else. For this bloody Russian git, who I know too and is one of my friends. He left me for one of my friends! I don't even know how long my boyfriend wanted to break up with me for! And who knows if the two were having an affair while I was still with Alfred!" Arthur told him, his words slurred as he was drunk and wailing too as the beer made his emotions more noticeable in his voice while drunk.

Arthur didn't know why he was being so truthful, with a stranger to be the least. Maybe it was because he needed to vent his problems to someone, anyone. Or for the fact when he was drunk, he just blurted things out and forgot how many problems would be caused. Resting his head on the table, Arthur sighed. "I should have seen it coming, I guess. We weren't having sex for a while and he was acting different. Maybe it was me who pushed him away. I didn't want sex that often; I was too stressed out from work. He probably got sick and tired of me, especially not putting out for him. I'm useless." He sulked. Francis reached out and patted Arthurs head and grabbed his hand with his other hand. "Oh mon ami, it's not your fault. If anything, it's his for not respecting your wishes. Not only that, he's going to regret breaking up with a gorgeous, handsome, kind and amazing person such as yourself." He consoled him.

Blushing, Arthur froze and looked up. "You think I'm….all that you say I am?" He asked, surprised that someone would say something like that. Not even Alfred called him those things, the most he'd call the Brit was hot and cute, nothing like what Francis had called him. Francis nodded. "Oui. I think you are all that and then some. I think you are perfect." He said, smiling. Arthur blushed more, his face going red. "Thanks… No one's ever said that to me." Arthur mumbled, smiling back a little. In the bottom of the Brits stomach, he felt butterflies, something he hadn't felt since he first was going out with Alfred. Maybe it was because he was drunk or for the fact that Francis was the first to say such nice compliments like that to him. Biting his lip, Arthur leaned forward towards Francis and before he could react, kissed him. Francis didn't seem surprised by the kiss, if anything, he was expecting it. He kissed back, both their lips moving together in harmony. Arthur moved his hands so they were cupping the Frenchman's face, making the kiss deeper.

After the kiss went on, they both soon pulled back for air. "My house." Arthur said between panting. "Now." Francis nodded and stood up with Arthur. The Brit pulled out a few bills from his pocket and put it on the table to pay for the beer. He was hurrying and trying to be quick. All that was on his mind now was getting back to his place with the Frenchman, so he could forget about Alfred. The two walked out of the bar and towards Arthur's apartment. The Brit only lived a few blocks away, so it made it easier to get there. They walked faster, both because it was cold and night time, and that they both wanted to start what both men wanted to do.

* * *

Once they finally climbed up the stairs of the apartment building to reach the front door of Arthur's apartment, they were already so desperate. Arthur pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, rushing Francis in first so he could lock and close the door behind him. As soon as the door was closed, Arthur was pushed against the door by the Frenchman. Lips found lips straight away, moving together heatedly. Arthur moaned and gasped as he felt the others tongue slide across his bottom lip. Francis took the chance of Arthur gasping to slip his tongue into his mouth. Arthur moaned and ran his fingers in Francis' hair, tugging on it to deepen the kiss. The kissing went on for ages, and soon their hips started to grind against each other, making both men moan.

At one point, both found them on Arthur's bed. It was a mystery to Arthur how they did, he was too drunk to even know how the littlest things happened. All he was focused on was that Francis was on top of him, and as each minute passed both men were undressing each other and themselves. By now, they were naked and Arthur was moaning as he was being prepared by Francis. Arthur's senses were filled with the buzz of the alcohol he drank earlier and the buzz of the pleasure and bliss he was receiving. To the Brit, it almost felt like a dream. That when he woke up, he would really be with Alfred and they hadn't ever broken up.

With his senses in a state of comfortable numbness, all Arthur could do was moan as he was penetrated by the Frenchman on top of him and was being taken over. Skin slapped against skin and moans filled the air in the room as the Frenchman thrust into the Brit again and again. To Arthur, he was just doing this to feel numb, to forget about his heartbreak. He hoped that the night wouldn't end, that this emptiness was filled for the amount of time that he was connected intimately to Francis. But he knew by the morning, he would forget about what was happening, but face the memory of breaking up with Alfred. He only hoped that the other would leave before he woke up so he didn't have to face him. This was only a one night stand for Arthur. Though, he didn't know what it meant for Francis. That that there was a deeper meaning to Francis, that Arthur wouldn't realise, because he had forgotten.

As both of them came and moaned loudly as they did, the both were filled with the glow of after sex. Francis pulled out of Arthur and was panting and sweating. He lay next to the Brit, who was equally panting and sweating like he was. Watching Arthur, Francis smiled as he saw the Brit fall asleep, soon following him. Francis hoped that things wouldn't be complicated when they woke up the next day, that things would go the way he wanted. But of course, he knew the Brit better to know that things don't ever go his way especially the type of person Arthur was. Francis knew the Brit too well, even if Arthur wouldn't remember him.

* * *

**Okay, first A/N's. This is of course, FrUK. There will be some side RusAme. And I don't have any hate towards USUK, I ship both FrUK and USUK equally, this is just how the story goes. The smutty scene was purposly not written in detail, for reasons. Reviews are welcome and help me out, especially that this is my first chapter of this story. More to come when I get around to it. Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

Stretching, Arthur groaned as he woke up. He winced and gripped his head with his hands as a headache, the result from his drinking the night before, went through his head. "Bloody hell. How much did I drink?" He grumbled, rubbing his temples to try and dull the pain of his headache. He absolutely hated hangovers, and completely forgot how bad his hangovers were since he hadn't drunk beer in so long. Sighing, he stretched more as he tried his best to wake up. He froze when he felt a slight pain in his back side. "Ow. What the hell? What did I do last night?" He said as he closed his eyes to remember. That's right; he went out drinking, but then what? Arthur remembered at one point coming back, but he wasn't alone. His face went red a bit as he remembered he had been filled, filled by someone when they had sex. But, the person wasn't Alfred. No, they had broken up, that's right, so there was no way it was Alfred. But who was the person that Arthur had slept with?

Feeling someone wrap their arms around his waist, Arthur jumped and looked down. A sleepy Frenchman hugged around the Brit's waist and nuzzled his face on his chest. Arthur's green eyes widened as he realised what had happened, pushing the other off of him and off the bed. Francis yelped as he landed on the floor, woken up from his sleep. "Mon amour, what was that for?" He mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his head as he had hit it when falling down. "What do you mean what was that for! You're still in my bed, and naked with me! You should have left earlier." He growled, pulling the blankets around him so he could hide his naked form. Francis raised an eyebrow. "Why would I leave? I was sleeping and I wanted to stay a little longer. Is that too much to ask for?" He pouted. Arthur rolled his eyes. "You really expect me to believe that? This was a one night stand and you should know it. Now, I'm going to have a shower and when I get out I expect you to be gone." He growled at him, standing up and keeping the blankets still wrapped around his body and walked to his bathroom. Francis watched him with hurt in his eyes, tough the Brit didn't see it.

* * *

Sighing as he entered his bathroom, he made sure to lock the door behind him in case the other tried to sneak in on him. Dropping the blankets off from his body, he shivered at the cold air in the bathroom. Stepping in front of the shower, he turned the taps, making the water run warm, close to being too hot but just right enough for him. He stepped under the water and sighed in relief as it made his tense muscles relax. The Brit started to do his usual ritual whenever he had a shower. He grabbed the bottle of lavender shampoo and squirted some in his hand so he could massage it in his hair. Closing his eyes as he did, he loved the smell and feel of the shampoo he used. Rinsing it out, he then used the conditioner, using the same motions as before, before rinsing it out. He grabbed the soap and started to wash his body, making sure to wipe out any of the cum that was still inside of him. Once he was done, he turned the shower off, stepping out and grabbing a yellow towel that was on the towel rack near the shower.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked out of the bathroom and to his room. Looking around, he saw that the other wasn't there. "Good, he left." He said to himself. Walking to his dresser, Arthur pulled out a pair of baggy tracksuit pants, a baggy t-shirt with the English flag on it and a pair of his favourite boxers. He was looking to wear something comfortable today instead of the proper clothes he usually wore, still being heartbroken from the fact that his boyfriend broke up with him. He sniffled and held back tears as he changed into his clothes. He wouldn't be going anywhere today; he probably would lock himself up in his room for a few days, maybe weeks. Sighing when he finished dressing himself, he dried his blonde hair with the towel, trying his best to make it dry as possible. Once finished, he rubbed his temples as the headache from his hangover came back. "Bloody hell. I'm pretty sure I have some aspirin in the kitchen or something." He mumbled to himself, throwing his towel on to the ground and walked out of his room.

* * *

Arthur groaned as each step he took to the kitchen made his headache worse. Grumbling under his breath, he stood at the entrance to his kitchen, when he froze. Standing in his kitchen, making what smelled like bacon, was Francis. _I thought I told him to get out._ Arthur growled in his mind. He would have yelled at the Frenchman, but he just stood there, looking at him. Only then did Arthur get a good look at the Frenchman. Last night he was too drunk and busy to get in his pants to see what the other looked like. Francis was rather good looking, Arthur had to admit. His neck length blonde hair was tied back and Arthur occasionally saw his blue eyes, which sort of reminded him of Alfred's. His body was well built as well. He was thin, but not too thin and had enough muscle for someone his height, which Arthur realised he was a few inches taller than he was. He blushed as he caught himself looking at his bare back, Francis was only in a pair of jeans after all. Shaking his head to get out of his daze, Arthur frowned. "What are you still doing here? I thought I told you to get out." He said to the other.

Francis looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Ah, bonjour mon amour. I was wondering when you were going to get out of that shower. Sit, I made you breakfast. I was sure that you'd be hungry after last night and from your hangover from drinking so much." He said cheerfully, taking the pan off of the stove and putting some of the bacon he was cooking on two plates. Arthur frowned, but did as he said, sitting down on the small dining table in the kitchen. "How much did you drink last night?" He asked the Frenchman. Francis shrugged. "Only half a glass of wine. Why do you ask?" He asked. Arthur chuckled. "So, you took over a man that was drunk and broken hearted while you were practically sober? You sound like a kind of guy I'd _love _to keep in my home." He said the last part sarcastically. Francis smiled and sat down on the chair across from Arthur, putting his plate of food and a knife and fork in front of him. "You forget, mon amour, you kissed me first." He cooed, smiling.

Arthur's cheeks went red at the memory and statement. "S-shut the bloody hell up." He growled, putting his head down and digging in to his food to distract himself. Francis chuckled, but started eating as well. As he ate, Arthur had to hold the urge to compliment how good the Frenchman's cooking was. The others culinary skills clearly were way better than the Brits, but he did know how to cook. They ate their food in silence, Arthur not looking up at Francis the whole time. Once they were both done, the Frenchman stood up and picked up their empty plates. "I will clean these up." He said, taking them to the sink.

Shaking his head, Arthur stood up. "No, I can do this. Just please, leave. I want to be left alone and you have no more business to be here." He told him. Francis pouted, but nodded and sighed in defeat. "Oui, I understand. I'll change and leave. Sorry for annoying you." He said, putting the dishes in the sink and walking towards Arthur's bedroom. Francis came back out a few minutes later, with all his clothes on and a slip of paper in his hand. "Here, this is my number. Call me when you want." He told the Brit, sticking the paper on the fridge with one of the magnets, which was a small British flag. Arthur huffed and crossed his arms, walking towards the front door. Francis followed after him, stepping out of the door when the other opened it for him. "Salut, mon amour. Merci for last night." He said with a smile as Arthur rolled his eyes and closed the door in his face.

Arthur grumbled and walked to his couch, finding his phone on the couch. _How the hell did this get here? _He thought, before opening his phone. No new messages. That made Arthur sigh sadly and feel close to crying. He loved Alfred, he still did. He didn't understand why the American had broken up with him. What had he done that made him want to leave? Arthur didn't know. The Brit felt his heart ache as he kept staring at his phone. He even looked through photos that he took of him and Alfred together. When they were happy, Arthur noted. He just kept looking at his phone hopefully. That maybe Alfred will call back and realise his mistake, asking for Arthur back. But it didn't happen. Arthur just kept hoping, even thought it was a hopeless thought. Burrying his face into his knees as he hugged them to hs chest, Arthur felt the tears start to pour, even though they were unwelcome. He just couldn't stop them, even the loud sobs that escaped his mouth. He couldn't stop crying.

* * *

Francis' smile had dropped when the door closed. He sighed tiredly and sadly, disappointed that he couldn't have stayed longer. Sighing, he walked down the stairs and out of the apartment building, glancing back occasionally just in case Arthur ran out and wanted him back inside. He didn't. Francis walked back to the bar that he was at last night. Finding his car still where he parked it, he unlocked and stepped inside, starting the ignition before he drove. As he did, he kept thinking about Arthur. Hoping that he would call him and talk to him. But still, he didn't. Arriving at his home, a double story house, the Frenchman parked his car and locked it, once he stepped out. Walking up to his front door, he unlocked it and walked into his house. His home felt empty, even though all his furniture was in there. It felt like there should have been someone else, but there wasn't. Francis made his way to the bathroom upstairs. Walking in, he washed his face with some of the water from the tap, making himself wake up more. He had a sullen expression on his face as he looked at his reflection in the mirror that hanged above the sink. "He doesn't remember me."

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**Yay! Another chapter! Hope you all like. I did most of this at school and the rest at home so it didn't take long to do. Any reviews, favourites and follows are well apriciated and keep me going, especially because I get distracted very easily. So, other than that, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Ok, bye.**


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur would have stayed in his spot on the couch, crying his eyes out for days, but nothing seemed to be going in his favour. After spending the whole crying, drinking tea and hoping that Alfred would call him and want to be with him again, the Brit ended up crying himself to sleep. Sleeping seemed to be a release for him as he dreamt. He dreamed of being with him, with Alfred, and all that happened was just a bad dream. But the truth was worse than he hoped. His eyes opened slowly and he winced as he heard the sound of bagpipes. "What the bloody hell?" He growled under his breath, siting up, having fallen asleep on the couch. The sound grew louder as Arthur looked to find the source of it. Finally, he found his phone and saw it ringing. He remembered the song was called 'Scotland the brave', which only meant one thing.

"Oh great, what does _he _want." He grumbled before answering his phone, bracing up for what was going to happen. "What do you want?" He asked. "Who the hell do ya tink you're sayin that too? And what do ya tink I want? You're late fer work ya lazy arse." A heavy accented Scottish accent barked through the other side said to Arthur. The Brit sighed. "Allistor, come on, can you give me a bloody break. A lot of crap has gone on with Alfred and me, so I need a break." He pleaded to the Scotsman. Allistor sighed on the other side of the line. "Aye, I heard what happened with you and Alfred. The bloody bastard should rot in hell. And don't tink I'll just let you stay home. I know what you'll end up doing Arthur, so that's why I need ya at work. So, get your lazy arse up and get ta work, now." He ordered, before hanging up.

Sighing in defeat, Arthur closed his phone. He knew he had to go to work, and as much as he didn't want to, he didn't want to deal with the wrath that was Allistor. Standing up, he walked to his room and to the bathroom. Running the shower, he did his usual routine before rinsing himself off and turning the water off. Stepping out and grabbing a green towel, he walked out to his room and looked for some clothes. Grabbing a pair of black jeans, a clean white shirt, black boxers and a black leather jacket, the Brit changed into his clothes. Once done, he grabbed his motorcycle keys and helmet, and walked out of the door, locking up before going.

* * *

Arriving at his work, Arthur parked his motorcycle at the front, turning it off and stepping off. Taking his helmet off, he fixed his hair quickly and rushed inside. The Brit worked at a small café, a well-known one. He started working there when he first moved to America. Taking a deep breath in before opening the door, he braced up, ready for being yelled at. Stepping inside, he saw Allistor standing at the register. " 'Bout friggin time." He grumbled, adjusting his glasses. Arthur sighed. The only reason that Arthur's parents so willingly let him move to America to go with Alfred was because his older brother worked nearby where he was moving. Allistor was Arthur's only connection to his old life from back home in England.

"I'm bloody here aren't I? Quit complaining." Arthur growled back. "Why the hell did you want me to come to work today anyway? You could have run the place without me." He complained to his older brother. Allistor looked at him and shrugged, brushing aside some of his red hair from his forehead. "Aye, I could've. But I need to go out and deal with some stuff for the café. Plus, it's nearly Allison's and mine birthday's, so I need ta buy her a present to send back home." He told his younger brother. Arthur's green eyes widened. "Shit, it nearly is you two's birthdays! I forgot." He said, nearly panicking. His older sister, Allistor's twin, would kick his ass if he didn't send her a birthday present. She was as mean as Allistor was. "You're a bloody idiot." The older red –head muttered, picking up some keys and his wallet. "Don't worry, I'll look and buy sometin' and say you bought it for her while I'm out. Just take care of ta place while I'm gone." He said, nodding to Arthur as he walked out the door, not waiting for a reply.

Groaning, Arthur walked to the back room of the café, where he kept all his stuff before it was closing time. Finding his locker, he put his helmet, keys, jacket and wallet away. He hesitated about putting his phone in there, but in the end put it with the rest of his stuff. He grabbed his black apron and put it on, so that way he wouldn't get dirty. Closing and locking his locker, he sighed as he walked back out to the register. Turning it on, he made sure it was walking before checking up and restocking some of the sweets that they sold. He looked over the supply of coffee beans and some of the tea leaves that they used. Arthur was the barista of the café, so he was in charge of making everyone's tea and coffee when they ordered it. He also knew how to make some of the sweets that they sold as well. Making sure that everything was in check, he looked at the clock to see that he wasn't late at all like Allistor said. He was at least half an hour early. "That bastard. I could have gotten more sleep." He grumbled, waiting for his co-workers to arrive.

"G-good morning Arthur." The Brit heard a familiar voice say as the bell to the front of the café door went off. Looking up, he nodded. "Good morning Mathew. You're still on time as usual." He said to his Canadian co-worker. Mathew smile and nodded, walking pass him to get to the back room of the café to put his stuff away. Arthur held back a sigh as he watched his co-worker and friend walk pass. He didn't think anyone would show up for work today. He hoped no one did, that way he could close the shop early or stay in the back rooms and cry his eyes out again. When Mathew came back, he wore his own black apron and smiled. "S-shall we open the café now?" He asked. Arthur nodded and walked to the front door, flipping to sign that said 'Closed' to 'Open'.

* * *

The day wasn't too busy. Many customers showed up and ordered either coffee or tea with a small cake, or the special of pancakes, made especially by Mathew. Arthur kept up a happy face as he took orders and made them. He smiled when he saw that each of the customers always enjoyed his barista skills. The rush of customers died down near ten o'clock. The place was practically empty, with only two customers sitting at some of the tables. Arthur rested his elbows on one of the benches at the front counters and sighed. "I-I'm going out for my break now A-Arthur. I-I'll be back soon." Mathew said as he waved the Brit and walked out of the front door. He nodded and waved back before sighing again. Arthur decided to at least try and distract himself from the boredom of that he was feeling, so he started to wipe down most of the tables. As he was wiping one of the tables, the one that sat near the window and showed the streets outside, he froze when he saw something catch his eye.

Walking pass the front window, was none other than Alfred. And he wasn't alone either, he was with Ivan. The two were walking and Alfred laughed at something the Russian said. Arthur's eyes widened and he felt jealousy hit him. The Brit swore Ivan saw him through the window, he swore that the Russian smiled at him. It made it worse when the tall Russian hugged Alfred and kissed him on the lips. Arthur felt his hands start shaking and his eyes start to water. What he saw was like a hit to the heart, it made him feel so horrible. The couple laughed and walked off, not looking to see that the Brit was about to have an emotional breakdown.

Running to the back room, Arthur closed the door and leaned his back against it. Putting his hand to his mouth, he tried to hold back the sobs that were going to escape. But the tears came out easily. He sank to the ground slowly, holding his head between his legs when he sat on the ground. _He's happy now without me. He's so happy and I'm just here being miserable! _Arthur thought as he cried. _This day couldn't get any worse._ The sound of a bell ringing made the Brit look up. The sound repeated again and again, getting more hurried and louder each time. He groaned as he knew what it was. It was the small bell at the counter that told him if someone was waiting to have their orders taken. Sniffling and trying his best to not look like someone who just broke down, he walked back out to the register. He stopped when he saw the familiar blonde he was with the other day. "Oh great, what the bloody hell is he doing here?"

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**Another chapter done! Took me a while because I was away for three days at a beach camp. Other than that, I hope you like. All the reviews, follows and favourites are awesome! So thank you to all that have done that. Sorry for the crappy A/N, I'm super tired and I can't be bothered with a good message at the end. Well, bye. Love you all.**

**Oh, and to note on something else, Allison (femScotland) and Allistor I made twins because I have a slight obbsession over femSctoland and I wanted the complicated family life effect for Arthur. So yeah. And I will include Wales, Ireland and Sealand in later chapters.**


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